The Monk and the Nun
by Alaskan Olive
Summary: G1 Valentine's Day One-Shot: "Write to me with sentimental effusion/ Let me revel in romantic illusion." An unusual conversation between Optimus Prime and Elita One.


**A/N: **Let me make one thing abundantly clear... I do _**not **_write romance stories or anything related to romance. I'm not a sappy person. However, Cupid must have shot me with some sort of arrow from his arsenal, for I have become inspired to write a Valentine's Day one-shot. This idea was bugging me so I gave in, now I can sleep peacefully.

**This is one-shot is based off the 1969 musical '1776'**and is mirrored off of the scenes between John and Abigail Adams. In the scenes Abigail offers John comfort through letters which John uses in his moments of despair as a relief and imagines that he is speaking to her face to face. The scenes between them are great and I wanted to do something like that with Optimus and Elita.

This was all inspiried by the song _'Yours Yours Yours'_. The story summary, the title and the 'quotation excerpts' in the story are lyrics from the song and so I don't own them-- they belong to Sherman Edwards.

**Enjoy and Happy Valentine's day.**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything. I'm just arranging the meeting between the two universes/ideas to meet and do their thing.

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**THE MONK AND THE NUN**

**by **

**Alaskan Olive**

Abigail:_ I live like a nun in a cloister  
Solitary, celibate, I hate it_

John:_ I live like a monk in an abbey  
Ditto, ditto, I hate it_

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Rare it was for Optimus Prime to question his purpose. He knew his duties and the important position he held in his species never-ending civil war. He knew what his fellow Autobots expected of him. He was their leader. Their glorified God of freedom for all sentient beings.

Unfortunately today he could not find those qualities uplifting enough to rescue him from his pit of despair.

Why had depression struck him now? When the Autobots were winning?

Every Decepticon plan had been overpowered by his forces with great success, yet he felt as if they were on the brink of annihilation. Perhaps it was a temporary emotional tide that would fade away when his boredom left him. Yes, perhaps that was what it was... _boredom_.

For now, he sat at his massive computer desk, his optics slightly dim from staring so long at the monitor. He wasn't even sure what he was looking for anymore, but he knew that whatever lay in his personal files it would cheer his mood; as if his unconscious knew what would cure his cabin fever.

A new message had arrived for him, and his spark soared at the name attached to the message.

_Elita..._

Due to security, receiving a letter from his bond-mate was as slow as if the message had to be carried by a messenger-bot from Cybertron, but perhaps the time made each message much more special, despite the long period he had to wait for them.

It suddenly hit Optimus; he _did_ know the reason for his depression...

He missed her.

He missed her caring nature. The tranquility she brought when she was near him. The immeasurable joy he felt and how she seemed to make him forget about the war that had ripped them apart.

Her messages were the only reminder that she existed.

_He missed her..._

"Elita..." he said out-loud, as if she was in the room with him, willing to listen to him. To provide him the comfort he needed, that only a femme-- his bond-mate-- could do. He could hear her voice in his head, her voice echoing and answering back to him like the a ghost of yesteryears...

_"I'm here Optimus..."_

"Elita... how are you fairing?"

_"Well Optimus, we have been making progress..."_

"No I don't mean that," Optimus interrupted, his voice low and respectful. "I mean _you_."

_"I could be better,"_ Elita responded, her vocals sad as they echoed through his processor. _"The nights can sometimes be lonely, but at least the Decepticons haven't robbed me of the stars for company."_ She paused momentairly before asking:_ "How are you? How is everyone?"_

"Elita, I miss you." Optimus lamented; he didn't even hear the last part of her statement.

"I miss you too Optimus..."

Optimus whirled around to his berth, astounded to see her sitting there as clear as day... as if she really _was _there. Optimus stood, aware that it was an illusion, a hallucination brought on by his desire for her to really be there, however he couldn't help but indulge into it...

It was what his spark needed.

Optimus sat next to her, his massive blue hand overlapping her smaller one that lay on her thigh. "Elita."

Elita studied him with tender blue optics, a small but sympathetic smile tugging at her lovely features. "Optimus... not even a face-mask can keep me from seeing that you are troubled. Please tell me."

Optimus smiled under his facemask, she was the only one that could see beyond the facial barrier, even though he really made no effort to mask the emotions his voice sometimes carried.

"After countless lives lost, and after millenia... I still cannot see an end to this war," Optimus explained.

"Wars have no fate Optimus," Elita told him, reminding him of what he once told her. "Their outcomes are written and decided based only on the commitment of the victors... the commitment to see the morals and principals they fight valiantly for finally established."

Optimus looked at her. "Do you still believe in those commitments Elita?"

She smiled promisingly at him, nodding her head. "Always. Not once have I ever forsaken them."

Her words reassuringly wrapped around Optimus' spark like a lover's embrace; it filled him with warmth, because her words radiated with truth and honor. He sighed loudly, refusing to let his hand leave hers as if the touch was the only thing preserving their conversation.

Her optics dimmed slightly as she studied him. "Have _you_ forsaken them?"

"Never," Optimus answered, raising his chin. "I long to see Cybertron restored."

She smiled warmly. "Then hurry Optimus Prime, we both have waited much too long already for that day."

Optimus rotated his body on the berth so that he was looking at her. He took her hand and encompassed it in his massive blue ones and rested them on his lap. "I wish I did not have to keep you waiting, Elita."

"Yes I know," Elita said. "but I am patient."

Optimus Prime's optics dimmed slightly. He felt warmth spread over his cheek plate when he felt her hand against it, cupping it softly as she spoke to him: "Do not let me be the cause for you to send our commitments to the pit of hopelessness. All I ask of you is that you keep moving forward on our road, no matter how rough it is at times... and continue to write to me Optimus."

"Always," Optimus promised. "And you to me as well."

"Always," she promised, smiling lovingly at him. "Until the day there is no more need for messages and we can talk freely on the streets of Iacon."

"I long for that day," Optimus said, looking up to meet her optics, only to find her no longer sitting there; reality finally reeling Optimus back in and destroying his serene romantic delusion... until he heard her voice, fading away.

_"And I as well Optimus..."_

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Abigail_: Come as soon as you can to my cloister  
I've forgotten the feel of your hand_

John:_ Madam we shall soon walk in Cupid's Grove together_

Both:_ And we'll fondly survey that promised land_

_Till then, till then  
I am as I ever was and ever shall be  
Yours, yours, yours..._

**THE END**

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**A/N:** Thanks for reading and reviews are welcomed.


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